Not Soldiers
by What-Ansketil-Did-Next
Summary: Mace Windu faces a conundrum in the early stages of the war. Can the Jedi serve the Republic and remain Jedi? A story about Master Windu, Palpatine and what it means to be a Jedi.


**Disclaimer: **Own these characters, I do not.

**Warnings: **Wartime rhetoric and manipulation.

**Characters: **Mace Windu, Chancellor Palpatine

**Summary: **Mace Windu faces a conundrum in the early stages of the war. Can the Jedi serve the Republic and remain Jedi?

**Author's Note: **Originally posted on livejournal. Follows on from the themes explored in _Ascendant_.

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><p><em>On the day of Palpatine's election to the chancellorship, Mace had seen that Palpatine was himself a shatterpoint of unimaginable significance: a man upon whom might depend the fate of the Republic itself.<em>

- _**Revenge of the Sith**_**, p. 146**

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><p>The bonfire was hot on Master Windu's face, as flames scented with the pungent incense favoured by the Naboo carried Qui-Gon Jinn away into the firmament on acrid plumes of smoke. Shifting his attention away from Master Yoda, Mace's dark gaze drifted to the avian profile of the Republic's new Supreme Chancellor, etched in the firelight.<p>

Those heavy eyelids drooped as if in pain and Palpatine turned away, his blue-robed figure disappearing amongst the shadows deepened by the height of the pyre.

Mace gave a solemn nod to Master Yoda and followed the line drawn by the Chancellor to a balcony overlooking the baroque serenity that was the city of Theed at night. Palpatine did not rest his hands on the marble, but simply stood, back straight, staring up at the constellations.

The man's presence was a contradictory fascination: Mace had first noticed it as he observed Palpatine reciting his oath of office: he was a shatterpoint of immeasurable importance, connected to so many threads of consequence that he evoked a spiritual wariness in Mace, who sensed what this homely Naboo senator would become to the Republic. _The beating heart of the government cloaked in crimson protectors, the arbiter of untold trillions, wielding his voice like a lightsaber to check the raging tide..._all of it _blind_, as the new chancellor was a being without a scrap of Force-sensitivity. For all his staggering prominence, Palpatine was a living-shadow, a gap where a man should have been in the eyes of the Force.

"Your Excellency," he acknowledged, inclining his head.

The Chancellor turned, his manner distracted, perhaps unused to his new honorific of office. He couldn't remember Mace's name. "Master – ah – Master...?"

"Windu," the Jedi finished, cutting short Palpatine's embarrassment. Mace moved to stand beside the politician. "You seem troubled..."

Lips quirking sadly in what could hardly be called a smile, the newly-elected Chancellor nodded. "What manner of being would not be, in my position? I am now the head of a government whose faults have just been drawn so precisely in the blood of my people... in the blood of your fellow Jedi knight."

"In that case, I would say that the Republic is in good hands," Mace's words were blunt, his expression threadbare, but under their influence Palpatine's features gained a steely glow that heartened the Jedi Master.

The Chancellor's hands curled forward to grip the masonry, "I promise you, Master Jedi, I will _not _let these sacrifices go to waste." It seemed less the fleeting promise of a politician and more an oath sealed over Master Jinn's ashes, so true did the words ring – they reached inside Mace's spirit with their grim determination and drew from him what was so needed to face the lengthening shadows: _hope._

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><p><em>"I prefer the office like this," Mace half-nodded around the sweep of open floor. Austere. Unpretentious and uncompromising. To Mace, it was a window into Palpatine's character: the Supreme Chancellor lived entirely for the Republic. Simple in dress. Direct in speech. Unconcerned with ornamentation or physical comfort. "A shame he can't touch the Force. He might have made a fine Jedi."<em>

- _**Shatterpoint**_**, p. 10**

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><p><em>We are keepers of the peace, not soldiers. <em>The words seemed to silently echo around the red office with the sad rustle of dying leaves. In the arid landscape of Geonosis had been revealed the one thing that would call Jedi to battle as they had not battled since Master Yoda's youth: _the_ _Sith._

For it was now certain that Obi-Wan Kenobi had killed the apprentice and that the Sith master was still somewhere at work, muddying the currents of the Force with darkness so thick even Yoda could not penetrate it. Yet, for all this, Mace was confident of their success.

And part of this confidence rested in the man who stood by the window: a stark silhouette now invested with authority well beyond the traditional purview of his office. It seemed _right _in a way the Jedi couldn't possibly explain. _There would be no more delays now, we will act!_

The strength of that thought surprised him. He'd passed his adult life in the service of various chancellors – _what made this one any different? _And yet the only other being he could imagine conducting this war was Master Yoda. The Senate certainly could not – Naboo had shown the Jedi that.

"Master Windu," Palpatine turned, waving him over. Outside, clone troopers marched into a darkening sky. "Come gaze out at the Republic's failure."

"The Jedi support you, Your Excellency. You are defending the Republic." Mace wanted to reassure the man: _you haven't failed. We will win. _But he didn't say it.

Palpatine shook his head and gazed up at Mace as though he had just realised something, "You are a _warrior_, Your Grace. I did not see it before." Apropos of nothing as it was, the statement caught the Jedi Master off guard. He had not seen it before either.

"Perhaps…" was Mace's non-committal response.

"Well _I_ am not. To think that Count Dooku too was once a _Jedi_..."

"I respected Dooku's idealism, but now he has revealed himself as a Sith Lord…? My only regret is that I failed to kill him in the Geonosian arena. Make no mistake, Chancellor, this is _not_ a crusade for independence. It is a dark plot aimed at the heart of the Republic." _At the Jedi._

"A... dark plot?" The Chancellor said the words slowly, testing them sceptically on the air. "Surely what we're discussing belongs to the realm of legend? You may not be aware of this, but I once counted myself as a friend of Master Dooku; we spent many hours in political discussion. He is in criminal error, undoubtedly, but _evil_? "

Mace Windu took a breath, his brown eyes candid. "The Sith are as real as you are and, make no mistake, they _are _evil, and they _are _ones behind this war. They wish to revenge themselves on the Jedi and the Republic, and take what they perceive as rightfully theirs." His dark features might have been set in stone.

Palpatine's blue eyes gave a slow, crinkling blink. "Rightfully theirs? But Dooku was a _Jedi. _I don't understand... Are you sure that the Count isn't merely a rogue Jedi resurrecting old demons to enhance his... mystique?"

"_Very_ sure, Excellency.," Master Windu shifted his stance, crossing his arms and folding his hands into the sleeves of his tunic, suddenly cold. "The Sith worship power. Do not doubt that Yan Dooku wishes to usurp your authority… the authority of the Senate."

"Hah! I do not doubt _that." _Palpatine spat the words out and then paused, seeming to remember himself. His next words were tentative: "Senator Amidala seems confident that we can still negotiate, however...?"

"_Sith _do not negotiate, Chancellor."

A bitter smile: "So there will be no quarter given and we will show none in return," the politician's expression congealed into controlled purpose. "I thank you, Master Jedi, for this elucidation." He stepped forward and touched the transparisteel, his reflection shimmering under the lamps, which illuminated his silver hair. "_Very well_," he mused, almost to himself. "Very well, Your Grace."

A warmth stirred in Mace's soul – a consolidation of will both of them shared. Master Windu bowed.

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><p><em>Because Mace, too, has an attachment. Mace has a secret love.<em>  
><em>Mace Windu loves the Republic.<em>

- _**Revenge of the Sith**_**, p. 309**

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><p>The way of the Vornskr is a dangerous path. It requires a certain control – a certain... <em>satisfaction<em>... which is too close to the Dark Side for many Jedi to tolerate. One must allow passion to flow _in_, before letting it flow out of oneself. The seventh form was one of the most dangerous of lightsaber styles – for the wielder as well.

"In some ways," Master Windu confided, "I think this war is much like Vapaad."

One of Master Yoda's sleepy old eyes cracked open. "Like Vapaad, you say?" He shifted his small form on the meditation pad toward Mace, long ears pricking up.

"We have let this fight flow into us, we have accepted it. What remains is to exhale, and the longer it stays within us, the harder that is to do. I _feel _it, Master, in myself."

"Fear for the young ones, _I _do; those who have not your wisdom... But allow the Sith to win we cannot. Of the Dark Side, this war certainly is."

_No, Master, _spoke the creeping voice of the deadly jungles of Haruun Kal, _this war _is _the Dark Side. For that is what Vapaad means: to allow the dark tide in and to flow back out. _The Dark Side drove his beautiful padawan Depa Billaba mad in that deep, guerrilla-torn jungle – the Dark Side turned her into a creature of atrocity. This war was turning them _all _into creatures of atrocity.

It was impossible to tell Master Yoda this – good, _pure_ Master Yoda who had no need of Vapaad. It was Mace Windu's great fear: for what was the galaxy without the _Republic?_ And how could the Jedi allow the Sith, their ancient enemy, to take _that_ without a fight? Impossible. There was only one answer for Mace Windu: cut off beast's heads and its body will fail. _Kill Darth Tyranus. Kill Darth Sidious. _

"The shroud of the Dark Side... blinds us, it does. Mindful, all Jedi must be."

Mace Windu closed his eyes: _every second, every day, every Jedi inches closer to Depa Billaba._

_Time was running out._

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><p>"<em>The best security, Master Yoda once said, lies in creating a society nobody wishes to attack."<em>

_"Of course! But having somehow failed to convince the Trade Federation, we must play the cards as they have been dealt," the Chancellor said."This is not a perfect world and not all our choices are easy ones."_

_This was obviously true, and the kind of hard truth Mace Windu found more comfortable than the Chancellor's little sallies into gallantry and compliment._

- _**Dark Rendezvous**_**, p. 150**

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><p>"May I ask," Supreme Chancellor Palpatine said softly, "if there has been any change?" It was at the end of a meeting of the Jedi Council and the Loyalist Committee.<p>

Mace was surprised that Palpatine even remembered Depa Billaba. She had once stood, etched in his memories, on the marble steps of Theed – the twin Beads of Illumination set into her forehead; _his _protégé, _his _padawan; two strands of oiled, black braids behind her head. Now she lay, never to wake, scars biting into her golden skin where her Chalactan marks had been.

"None," Mace enunciated stiffly, lifting his chin. Once, he might have appreciated Palpatine's inquiry, now it was an unnecessary reminder of the dangers which beset them all.

A pale hand reached up to touch Mace's shoulder. As though the Chancellor could sense what was on the Jedi's mind. "Soon this war _will_ end." His voice was unusually soft – compassionate, _hypnotic. _For a second, Mace understood what drew Skywalker to claim this man as a friend.

But the Jedi Master stepped away, irritated at the Chancellor's certainty; this soft _civilian's_ certainty. Irritated at himself: "This war will end when we have defeated the Sith, _not before._" For a second, Master Windu saw something oddly bloated in Palpatine's slight aura – strange flickering in a void.

Palpatine shrugged, dismissive. "The Sith. Do you Jedi think of nothing else?" Master Windu observed the smaller man with deep, careful eyes. It seemed almost as if the less certain Mace became, the more imperious the Chancellor grew. _I dislike him, _Mace realised suddenly. "I'm afraid I must focus on the more... _secular_ aspects of this conflict, Your Grace." Palpatine turned away in a swish of black shimmersilk and quilted Naboo velvet, his voice sleek with command. _You are dismissed, _was his silent message. A Jedi Master had just been sent on his way by the Republic's Force-blind dictator. _What am I thinking? I am a servant of the Republic – a servant of its leader. _But part of him wondered whether this ancient arrangement was truly wise.

He put the thoughts from his mind: "The Council believes we are close to locating the elusive Sith Master... we suspect he may be on Coruscant itself." Master Windu addressed the words to the Chancellor's back, intending to provoke a reaction. _That will make Palpatine listen._

"I'll thank you," Palpatine said distantly, summoning a secretary, "not to trouble me with _suppositions_, Your Grace. I have no time for them. Send Moore your official report." There was something mocking lurking in that tone which set Mace's teeth on edge. Nevertheless, his report was dispatched to the Chancellor's aide.

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><p><em>Mace stared out the window. "The Chancellor loves power, if he has any other passion, I have not seen it."<em>

_Obi-Wan shook his head with a trace of disbelief. "I recall that not so long ago, you were something of an admirer of his."_

_"Things," Mace Windu said gravely, "change."_

- _**Revenge of the Sith**_**, p. 150**

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><p>Anakin Skywalker's words numbed something in Mace. Yet, for the first time in years, everything became simple again. The great, complex maze of shatterpoints was now one lethal faultline. So too, was the morality of the war reduced to a single, shining purpose – <em>he would kill or be killed.<em>

The second man he had once admired had now revealed himself to be evil – an enemy of everything Mace Windu stood for. There would be no more internal conflict. It was not treason: a cancer needed to be removed from the government of the Republic. Masters Windu, Kolar, Fisto, and Tin would do so without delay.

The Sith would fall, and the Republic – _the Jedi –_would be delivered. No more darkness.

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><p>"<em>This is another Jedi rule," Mace took a couple of steps to one side, to find a space on the floor where he didn't have to fear tripping over a body. "If you fight a Jedi, you've already lost."<em>

- _**Shatterpoint, p. 399**_

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><p>"You are under arrest, <em>my lord<em>." Mace grated the words out, as if he were fouling his mouth with them; the beam of sizzling amethyst energy centimetres from the Chancellor's chin. Palpatine was winded, muttering meaningless pleas at Anakin Skywalker like the coward he was. The rain licked Master Windu's smooth scalp and caused his lightsaber to hiss.

"The _oppression_ of the Sith will _never_ return. _You have lost._" Barely contained fury was leashed tightly to each word.

"_No... no... no!_ _You _have lost!_" _Palpatine snarled, his face scrunching into the mask of a demon. Searing bolts bled from his fingers in a stream of agony which Mace only just managed to deflect. He didn't know how long he endured that barrage of fury, only that when it finally halted, the Chancellor was unrecognisable.

"I am going to end this _once and for all!_" Master Windu found he had no need to exhale. The galaxy would be scoured of this _disease_.

"You _can't_," the voice of the Chosen One was distant, as if underwater. "He _must _stand trial."

"He has control of the Senate _and_ the Courts! He's too _dangerous _to be left alive." _Kill him, kill him now!_

The helpless, suppliant creature that was once Palpatine had the effrontery to beg for mercy: "Don't... don't kill me, _please_..." _He is defenceless! Strike, strike now! _

_"It's not the Jedi way! He must live!"_ Again, that voice. Master Windu ignored it. _Treason be damned. This wasn't treason, this was–_

"Please, _don't_–"

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><p><em>Palpatine looked from Yoda to me, his face a mask of compassionate concern. "Who would have thought that fighting a war could have such a terrible effect on a Jedi? Even when we win," he murmured. "Who would ever have thought such a thing?<em>

_"Yes," I could only agree, "who would have thought it, indeed."_

_"Wonder, one must," Yoda said slowly, "if that might be the most important question of all?"_

- _**Shatterpoint**_**, p. 409**

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><p>Lord Sidious was thoughtful, gazing into the mirror, his hood off his face, loose around his shoulders. One vein-shot hand rose to touch the bisected ripples of flesh that made up his abnormally weighted forehead.<p>

It had been a close thing, but his long-dead Master's teachings had never yet failed him yet: _tell me your greatest strength, so I will know how best to undermine you; tell me your greatest fear, so I will know which I must force you to face; tell me what you cherish most, so I will know what to take from you..._

Yellow glared into yellow. What was it Yoda had once said? _Once you start down the dark path..._

A guttural laugh issued from the Emperor's old throat. _So much for the peace-loving Jedi!_


End file.
